


Liquid Guilt Is On My Lips

by Raycifer



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fake AH Crew, Kidnapping, Minor Violence, Panic Attacks, Trans Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-07-04
Packaged: 2018-07-16 16:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7275043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raycifer/pseuds/Raycifer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin's used to being the subject of kidnappings and general violence. It's part of his job, practically a requirement, and he lives for it. He loves the adrenaline and the drama of it, loves seeing the crew swoop in to save him, loves being able to hold his gun to some pricks head and shooting his brains out.<br/>He stops loving it the first time his boyfriend is kidnapped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. burn this city down

The heist had been going perfectly fine – better than fine, actually. Gavin had been able to disable the bank’s security systems without a problem, Michael and Ryan had been making sure that none of the witnesses escaped from the lobby, Geoff and Jeremy were stealing the money from the vault and cackling in the coms, and Jack had been right outside in the getaway car, all ready to make a run for it as soon as all the money was secured. Gavin unplugged his USB from the bank’s computer and made his way down to Michael and Ryan, golden gun swinging in his hands as he skipped down the endless halls to the lobby. When he entered he saw a bunch of terrified people lying on the ground, and waved at them as they looked up, a wide, sadistic grin on his face. He glanced at Michael as the boy sent him a wink as a silent job well done, and Gavin nodded and smiled even larger in return. There were pools of blood spreading across the polished tiles from fools who couldn’t listen to orders, and Gavin basked in the glorious chaos of it all.

Then, there was a loud bang that rocketed through the building, and Gavin felt himself being shoved to the ground, a burning pain in his side and a weight on his back. He heard a muffled voice (he thought it was Ryan, but he’s not sure). Everything goes black and he can’t breathe and there’s so much screaming. The weight leaves his body and he sees a fuzzy black boot from his position on the floor, muffled gunshots and then silence.

_(They tell Gavin later that there was a mole in the crew. They leaked the information to one of the biggest rival gangs in the damned city for a couple of grand and a one-way ticket out of America. Michael tells Gavin that Trevor found the guy and sent one of their best mercenaries to deal with him. Gavin doesn’t really care, but he hopes the mercenary is Miles. It is, and the mole is dead in a day.)_

He wakes up on his bed three hours later, bandages wrapped around his side and a headache that makes him feel nauseous and dizzy. He pushes himself up, grimacing at the sharp pain which passes through his body, and takes a sip of the water left on his bedside table. He swings his feet off his bed and takes a few wobbly steps to his door, one hand holding onto his wall for support as the other clutches his right side. His bare feet gently patter the floor of the hallway as he stumbles, and then stills. He can hear a furious argument going on further down the hall – he can make out Geoff’s and Michael’s loud, angry voices from the planning room, with Jack speaking in a softer, but still frustrated tone. He walks towards the room as quietly as possible, thanking his past self for taking gymnastics and for learning how to tread lightly. He carries on down the hallway, his breaths as even as his steps as he passes gilded photographs and prices stolen pieces of art that decorate the walls, his eyes focused on the end of the hall. When he reaches the door of the planning room, he regrets leaving his room with every single fibre of his being.

He hears Michael swearing, calling Geoff vulgar names as Geoff’s voice raises in self-defence. He hears the words _rival gang_ and _kidnapped_ and _Jeremy_ and his whole world stops. His breaths are caught in his throat like bullets and he can feel himself slumping against the wall and sliding down it with his long fingers clutching his gold hair and his eyes glazing over. He can’t process anything but the words rival gang and kidnapped and Jeremy, oh god Jeremy. He hears the door open in the distance, can see the concerned faces of his crew, the regret coating Geoff and Michael’s faces, but none of it matters because Jeremy’s fucking missing. He had never been taken before, never had to experience the horrors inflicted upon people like them and he was so scared for him. Gavin might get a kick out of being kidnapped and beaten within an inch of his life because of his death wish and confidence that the crew would find him, but Jeremy didn't have that.

Jeremy was the only person who has ever truly been his, who he loves with all of his twisted heart, and who means the entire world to him; God, Gavin would burn down the entire city for him and he’s _gone_. He snaps back into reality, angrily yanking his arm away from Geoff’s touch and storming to his room. Their worried yells resound through the walls but he ignores them, pushes them away and grabs the photo that never leaves his table. It’s one of him and Jeremy sitting on the edge of the pier, their backs facing the camera as they gaze out into the endless ocean. He crumbles to the floor like a paper ball, the realisation suddenly hitting him at full speed and he is left a mess on the ground. He clutches the photo to his chest and allows himself to cry for five minutes, to fall apart in fear and shame and guilt, before piecing himself back together.

He pushes himself up and places the photo back onto his table, along his fingers to rest on Jeremy’s figure and forcing himself out the door. He tells himself that Jeremy doesn’t need his Gavin right now. His Gavin is soft and kind and intelligent, he is sarcastic quips at bad films in the middle of the night, he is comfort after a nightmare which renders him petrified, he is soft hums and lazy smiles and love. His Gavin is the man who feels with every part of himself, who never hurts children, who coos at stray cats and looks at Jeremy like he’s the most precious thing in the entire world.

No, Jeremy doesn’t need that Gavin. He needs the Golden Boy, the untouchable boy with a taste for blood and a manic grin, confidence radiating from every pore and endless charm. He needs the fox, the boy who can wrap someone around his pinky finger with a flutter of his lashes, who is adored and lusted after and feared by everyone. He needs the Gavin who grins when he cocks a gun at someone, loves the pain and horror and will stop at nothing to get what he wants.

Gavin loves Jeremy, and he would burn down the world for him.


	2. this awful energy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy is rescued in small steps, and the wait nearly kills Gavin.

It takes the crew nine days to rescue Jeremy.

Nine endless, tiresome days where Gavin forces himself to say awake, clawing at every loose string connected to his boyfriend’s kidnapping, staring at a glaringly white screen until his eyes are bloodshot. He doesn’t sleep until the third day, discarded coffee mugs littering his once immaculate room and half eaten pot noodles scattering the floor. He falls asleep in his chair and wakes up with a sharp crick in his neck and a growling stomach, and goes back to work, fuelled by some sick energy. He only leaves his room for either food or the toilet, avoiding the rest of the crew like the plague. He doesn’t need their misguided concerns or meaningless words. He’s fine. Jeremy’s the one in trouble.

In many ways, Gavin blames himself. If he had stayed in the control room for just a little bit longer, he would have spotted the rival gang and he could’ve prevented everything. If only he hadn’t been so cocky, marching around like he owned the place when he couldn’t even protect himself – Ryan had pushed him to the ground. A rival member had tried to kill him, and Gavin almost wishes he had succeeded. The guy would have gotten bragging rights for the rest of his pathetic life, and he wouldn’t be able to fuck anything else up. Still, he’s alive and so he spends every moment he can hunting the gang down. He knows the rest of the crew is doing the exact same thing, knows Geoff’s got the entire B-Team on high alert and searching the entire country, knows that Ryan and Michael are going round to their contacts for any information they might have. There’s a lingering whisper at the back of his mind that it’s too late, that Jeremy’s already dead but Gavin pushes it away. Until he knows who they’re dealing with and what their motives are, he can’t afford to make assumptions. So he works himself to death.

Gavin finds the warehouse on the fifth day.

He’s half asleep and shaking when he bursts out of the room and sprints down the hall to the planning room, tears collecting in the corner of his eyes. He slams the door open and finds Geoff sitting on one of the chairs, a laptop on the desk next to him and his face in his hands. The man jerks up violently when he hears Gavin’s sharp breaths, and Gavin can’t do anything but lunge forward to grab Geoff’s sleeve and pull him towards his room. Geoff allows himself to be steered, and soon enough they are staring at CCTV footage of the warehouse. Geoff can see the rival gang patrolling the area, can see the dilapidated surroundings and cigarette smoke wafting through the air. The images change as Gavin scrolls through the footage, and then he sees Jeremy. He’s tied up on a chair in the middle of a room, blood trickling down his forehead as his chin rests on his chest. He’s clearly unconscious, and the older man can feel Gavin stiffen in worry from where his hand rests on his shoulder.

“Do you know where the warehouse is?” Geoff’s voice is loud and sudden in the miserable quiet of Gavin’s room, and he removes his hand from his shoulder as he looks him over. Gavin looks horrible: dark smudges circling dull green eyes, devoid of their usual mirth and affection, flat hair that hasn’t been washed in days, a crinkled shirt that Geoff knows is Jeremy’s and that’s when his heart breaks. He’s never seen Gavin like this, and it terrifies him. In this business, it’s dangerous to get close to people, because you never know when they’ll get taken from you. It turns you to a cynical old person who drinks too much and turns to violence to feel something, and Geoff doesn’t want Gavin to turn into that. God, did he know how much that sucked. He sees Gavin nod his head, notices the shake of his hands as he runs them through his limp hair and his heart splits again.

Geoff calls a meeting that Gavin drags himself to, leaning against the far wall with his eyes drawn to the floor. He listens without making any comments, and can feel the crews’ gaze on him. Michael’s the closest to him and, even though he doesn’t say a word to the Brit, he practically radiates concern from his place on the edge of the sofa. Jack and Ryan talk over the plan with their boss, and the words fly over Gavin’s head as they discuss the strategy. Michael’s tasked to create a big enough distraction at the front of the building to allow Ryan and Geoff to sneak into the building and get Jeremy out and to Jack in the getaway car. Gavin runs the plan over in his mind, and is faced with one glaringly obvious flaw.

“Where am I in your plan?” Gavin’s voice is hoarse and fragile, but the anger is still visible in his tone. He crosses his arms and looks at the crew, who have straightened up and do not meet his eyes. Jack clears her throat and meets Gavin’s demanding gaze, his eyes not softening even though Jack’s expression is apologetic.

“Look, Gavin. It’s probably safer to have you on surveillance and not in the midst of it.” Gavin cuts her off before she can say anything else, taking a step forward with his arms still crossed.

“No way. Nope. I’m going in.”

“No, you’re not.” Geoff interrupts, tearing Gavin’s angry gaze from Jack to himself. Gavin’s face twists with fury as Geoff continues in an even tone, his face expressionless. “There’s a chance that they may have taken Jeremy to get to you, and we can’t let them take you as well. It’s for the best, dude.”

The room is filled with a tense air as Gavin runs the words over in his mind, turning to the side and shaking his head with frustration. He trails his fingers through his golden locks before pressing his palms down over his eyes and looking back at the crew. Geoff’s stands tall by the table, a firm expression on his face but softness in his eyes. Jack’s the same, regal and powerful but with a kinder appearance, her heart bleeding on her sleeve. When he turns to Michael and Ryan and doesn’t see any objection to Geoff’s plan, he knows he’s lost. He sighs, ragged and tired, and leans back against the wall.

“Fine. You win. But I swear to God,” His head is tilted to the ceiling, anger coating every part of his body as he clenches his hands into fists, “If he’s dead, that’s it. You’ll never see me again.”

He can hear Michael walking past him out of the room as Ryan hesitates and follows him. His threat was harsh, but true. If he loses Jeremy, he’ll burn the entire world down, starting with them.

The crew bring him home on the ninth day, after endless hours upon hours of preparing and plotting. Gavin sits at home on his computer for ten hours while they’re out, never leaving from his position at surveillance for fear of missing something and Jeremy dying as a result. It’s a clean in and out mission, and they have him within twenty minutes. He sees Geoff and Ryan hoist Jeremy out of the building, the younger man walking with a limp as Geoff supports him and Gavin doesn’t let it sink in until he hears the car pull into the garage.

He rushes to the front door in time to see Geoff step through with the rest of the crew behind him. Jeremy’s arm is slung over Ryan’s shoulder as the taller man helps help through the door, with Jack following closely behind them. Gavin moves to go to Jeremy but Jack puts a gentle hand on his shoulder and tells him that she needs to patch him up before he can see him. Jeremy turns around from his place further down and gives Gavin a tired smile, blood still tricking down his face and a clearly injured leg judging by his limp. His shirt is bloody and torn, revealing the dirty white spandex of his binder underneath, but Jeremy is otherwise in one piece and he has never been so thankful.

Later that night, Jack tells Gavin he can see Jeremy and he practically sprints to his room. His heart is in his throat as he softly pushes the door open, a quiet greeting emitting from him. Jeremy sits up from his position on the bed and gives a timid smile, a worried and exhausted look on his face. Gavin sits on the dresser next to the bed and there is a calm silence full of relief and love, until Jeremy breaks it with words that send chills down Gavin’s spine.

“We need to talk, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This turned out far longer than I expected it to, but hey ho I like it (I think). It's also a day early, so here's to me having no social life!  
> I want to say thank you for all the comments on the first chapter, because they honestly made me so happy and really motivated me to get this out early.  
> I had originally planned for Something to happen in this chapter, but I think I'll save it for next chapter when Shit Gets Real. Also, please don't me for the cliffhanger lmao, it will all be explained. I'll be going more into the fact that Gav and Jer are trans as well bc obvs that's very important.  
> You can also come yell at me on my tumblr eylsewillems, but pls be gentle with me I am only a soft little writer  
> So yeah! Hope you guys have a nice day <3


	3. only fools (do what i do)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin can feel his self-doubt and guilt pounding through his veins, so he does the only thing he knows how to do: he pushes Jeremy away and runs.

Usually, any silence that fell between Jeremy and Gavin was comfortable and familiar. It spoke of two people who knew each other inside out, who were perfectly content with laying by one another and not speaking, soaking in the easiness of their relationship and letting the world stop swirling around them for a moment or two.

The silence is different this time.

Jeremy is fiddling with his hands from his place on his bed, his legs folded underneath him and a baggy sweater on. Gavin is leaning against the wall next to the door, his hands behind his back and feet tapping nervously on the floor. He knew what Jeremy was going to say and he can feel paranoia and anxiety boiling in the pit of his stomach, building up to a crescendo of disaster that threatened to wipe him out like a tidal wave.

“They wanted you.” Jeremy says, like it’s the simplest statement ever made. It’s not, they both know it, it’s so much more and Gavin almost chokes on his regret. Jeremy’s face is closed off and stoic, but emotion shines in his eyes and Gavin can feel himself falling apart.

“I guessed that.” His voice is quiet, and he can feel Jeremy’s gaze on him as he continues, “What did they do to you?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s over now.” Jeremy brushes off Gavin’s concern, ripping his gaze from the Brit and focusing on the trans pride flag pinned on the wall opposite his bed.

Gavin takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut. He opens them and looks at Jeremy, his small but muscular form sitting on the bed, hands quivering and unfocused eyes looking anywhere but at Gavin. He did this. If Gavin had stayed away, had kept his act up, had been remotely good enough, Jeremy never would have gotten hurt. He wouldn’t be sitting on a bed with new scars and bruises and nightmares and a failure of a boyfriend. He deserves better than Gavin.

“Well, that’s good.” Gavin glances to the side, trying his best to look unaffected and aloft, and the air around him seems to bristle with tension as Jeremy frowns at him.

“That’s good?” He spits, anger and confusion evident in his tone as he rubs his brow with one hand. Gavin shifts on his spot, hands reaching round to fold over his chest and chin lifting up. He can do this, he tells himself. He can act like a superior dickhead who doesn’t care about anyone. It’s his job to be able to change personality in the blink of an eye, and that’s one thing he can’t afford to fail at.

“Yeah. Sorry bout’ the whole thing, kidnapping’s a pretty nasty business.”

Jeremy blinks in disbelief, his features hardening from confusion and hurt to unadulterated anger. He closes his fists, the knuckles turning white as he shakes his head. Gavin can barely breathe, his chest caving in as he tries his best to keep his act up, to not let Jeremy know how much he really does care. Finally, Jeremy looks up at Gavin, and his heart softens and melts at the look in his eyes.

“You’re pushing me away, aren’t you?” Jeremy gets his answer in the form of Gavin’s silence, his eyes trained on the floor. “Jesus Christ, we talked about this Gavin.” He exclaims, standing up from his spot on the bed and throwing his hands up in the air in his frustration. Gavin flinches involuntarily at the movement and the tone of Jeremy’s voice, and he flattens himself back against the wall, fingers twirling in the hem of his sweater.

He straightens up, feet firmly on the floor and any worry that may have been spread across his features evaporating as he stares Jeremy in the eye, and says in a bold, unflinching tone, “I don’t give a shit about you, love.” He continues looking at Jeremy, pinning a smirk on his lips as Jeremy pulls his gaze from him and crosses his arms, flattening his chest.

“Oh yeah?” He looks back up, doubt echoing through his body as he sees the blank, impassive look on Gavin’s face, “That’s bullshit.”

“You don’t know anything about me. Back off.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

Both Jeremy and Gavin are snarling at this point, the corners of their mouths raised and brows furrowed in anger – one far more real than the other. Gavin can feel himself giving up, the desire to apologise and tell Jeremy how he really feels flowing through his veins, but he pushes it away. 

"You were never good enough.”

Turns out, Jeremy has one hell of a punch on him. He flies across the room and decks Gavin across the cheek, blood filling his mouth as he straightens up and looks at Jeremy in shock. Jeremy glares back at him, shoulders shuddering with each breath and unshed tears glittering in the corner of his eyes.

“Get out.” Jeremy chokes out, holding his hand to him as he turns. “Just… Don’t fucking talk to me.”

Gavin walks out of the door, clutching his cheek and makes his way down the hallway, eventually slumping to the ground near the front door. He puts his head in his hands and thinks about what he just did, what he just said, and he can’t fucking believe himself. He has told himself so many times that he will not let his paranoia take over his life, won’t let it ruin everything and here he is. Michael comes out of the front room and spots Gavin, a look of concern immediately crossing his usually stern features.

“Gav? What happened?”

In response to Michael’s worry, Gavin stands up, hands pressed against the wall and legs shaking, and runs out the front door.

~~~~

He doesn’t come back for two days.

Jeremy runs himself ragged in a vain attempt to find him, regret and hurt screaming in his mind. The rest of the crew tell him to give him time, but they all grow concerned after a day passes and Gavin still hasn’t come home. Except Geoff.

Geoff sits there with a glass of whisky, watching the rest of the crew desperately trying to find Gavin and Jeremy can feel himself getting angry at Geoff. He corners him in the middle of the night and accuses of him of not caring enough about Gavin, and Geoff shakes his head and chuckles. He looks sad, and Jeremy can feel some unwanted sympathy for the older man.

“Kid, let me tell you something.” Jeremy bristles at the nickname, and Geoff puts his glass down, looking right at him. “They aren’t going to find Gavin. He’s either going to come home of his own accord, or he isn’t going to come back at all. It’s simple.” His voice is full of emotion, contrasting with his indifferent features and Jeremy is so _scared_.

He feels himself shaking, electricity running through him as his mind fills with all the possibilities of what happened because he messed up. He shouldn’t have lost his temper at Gavin; he knew about his trust issues and he let himself get angry, screaming at him and saying all those dreadful things and it runs through his mind over and over again. Geoff pats him on the shoulder, staying with him until he can breathe again, and tells him that Gavin will make the right choice. Jeremy’s not sure what the right choice anymore.

At three in the morning on Tuesday, there is a pounding on the door. Jeremy is on his laptop, running though information Trevor had sent him about where Gavin could possibly be, and he jumps in surprise at the sudden noise. He runs to the door, begging under his breath for it to be Gavin, opens the door, and screams.

Gavin is standing there, covered in blood and his eyes glazed over. He drops his golden gun on the floor as he slumps against the doorframe, giving Jeremy a lopsided grin. Geoff comes sprinting up, freezing at the sight of Gavin and then shoving Jeremy out of the way. Gavin folds in Geoff’s arms as he cradles him like a child, and everything starts blurring as Geoff starts yelling for Jack. His breaths mingle into one and his chest constricts, feeling nausea and panic wash over him. He runs his fingers through his short hair, slowly counting his breaths until his chest eases and he can see again. He looks up to see Michael crouching next to him, not touching him but close enough so he can feel comforted. Michael smiles and reached out to place a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder, telling him that Gavin’s okay, that he’s in shock and needs sleep but he’ll be okay. Jeremy is so relieved, and he lets it show on his face as he pushes himself up.

“You need to sleep too, Jer. You can see him in the morning.” Michael’s voice is the softest he’s ever heard it, and Jeremy is so grateful for his family.

“I mean, technically it is the morning.” His voice is shaky and broken up, but Michael shakes his head in fondness.

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.” He says, gently pushing Jeremy towards his bedroom door.

Jeremy collapses onto his bed, exhaustion sweeping over him as he allows his mind to calm down with the assurance that Gavin was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I'm alive.  
> My laptop completely broke last Sunday, so I haven't been able to update - I was also in the middle of writing this chapter, so I lost all of that and it took me a while to get my motivation back up.  
> Also, this chapter is about 1.5k words which is far more than I expected to write, but it should be all wrapped up next chapter! I really hope it's okay, I always get so nervous posting chapter lmao.  
> You can follow me on tumblr @eylsewillems to yell at me for making the fahc guys suffer so much any time you want.  
> The last chapter (at least I'm hoping it's the last, but I am Uncontrollable apparently) should be uploaded tomorrow evening, but I ain't making any promises after last time.  
> I hope you all have a good day <3


	4. someone could love you more

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gavin and Jeremy fix themselves, picking up the pieces of everything from the ground and piecing their hope and love back together. It's bloody and tiring, but they do it, and the world fears them for it.

There is a river that runs through Los Santos, filthy and polluted, much like the city itself. It winds around the Fake AH Crew’s headquarters, and so they all find themselves relaxing by the bank from time to time.

There is a particular spot that Jeremy and Gavin frequent, a little way off from the base, the bank there covered in weeds and bugs and trash and they love it. It’s perfectly wild, just like the both of them, and they spend a good majority of afternoons lying next to the grimy river, talking and humming and falling deeper in love.

So when Jeremy wakes up that morning and discovers that Gavin’s not in his room, he knows exactly where he is. He wouldn’t run off again, not last night, and a firm look from Geoff as he passes him in the hallway solidifies the fact that Jeremy really needs to sort things out between them. He grabs his car keys and makes his way to their spot, barely pausing to process anything.

He is a mess as he stops the car and climbs out, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. He leans against the cool metal and forces himself to breathe, straightening out his shirt and shoving any doubts to the back of his mind. He walks down the path to the river, which has been worn down from all the times they have made their way to their spot, dandelions and buttercups clawing at his ankles and the smell of untamed wilderness filling his nostrils. He rubs his hands together, pushing away overgrowth and branches, scrambling up the slight hill and then, spotting the figure curled up on the edge of a log below.

Jeremy has to remind himself to breathe once again because Gavin is so beautiful. He forgets how beautiful he is sometimes; he is so used to his golden glow, the way his eyes light up and the lean, firm frame that holds him. He is a legend, the man parents in this city and so many others tell their children to stay away from, to fear, just because of the power he wields. Jeremy is slowly becoming the same, the caricature of a young boy swept away from a life of poverty into the arms of decadence and glory, but he reminds himself he will never be at Gavin’s level. As long as he has him though, he doesn’t care.

Gavin doesn’t look around when Jeremy sits down next to him, but rather continues staring out at the scenery in front of them. The river goes on for miles, twisting and turning, an expansive forest hidden on the other side and all sorts of creatures scurrying around. Gavin looks out with a small, wistful smile on his face, and he sighs.

“You know; the first time I came here was with Geoff.” Jeremy didn’t know that, and he can feel his interest and curiosity peaking as he gazes softly as Gavin, his eyes still contemplating the river and all that it holds. “I was 17 then, and boy was I a train wreck.” His chuckle is deep and dark; a sound he never usually makes around Jeremy. He’s about to interrupt, to tell Gavin that he doesn’t need to tell him anything about his past – he doesn’t care, would never care about matters as fickle as the things Gavin has been through, but Gavin carries on with a steady voice and shaking hands.  
“I had all of these ideas in my head of what I was going to do, and they all go crashing down like _boom_.” He adds to the sound effect, throwing his hands up in the air to try and mask the crack in his façade, and Jeremy melts next to him. “So I’m stuck here, and I don’t know what to do and Geoff comes along and kicks my ass into gear. And I was a piece of shit, honestly, trust issues galore and reckless and dumb. But he put up with me, let me join the crew when I turned 18, and everything seemed to go up from there.”

He takes a breath and looks at Jeremy, green pools swimming with emotion as he rests his arms on his knees. “Then you come along.” His tone isn’t accusing, but more affectionate and sad. “For so long I had dedicated myself to putting this mask on, of hiding what I really felt so I didn’t get hurt, and I was so _good_ at it. But you come along with your dumb laugh and your kindness and you knock everything down, completely destroy the walls I spent so long putting up and I’m not even angry about it.”

Jeremy’s world seems to spin as he looks at the crumbling man next to him, still looking into the depths of Gavin’s murky eyes, tracing every part of his face, ingraining it into his memory.

“I’m glad I did – meet you I mean. Sorry about the whole knocking the walls down thing. If it makes you feel better, it took me a long ass time to tell you how much I liked you.” Jeremy laughs, a gentle noise that reflects onto Gavin, causing him to smile and turn his face away back out to the river. Gavin shifts closer to him on the log, placing his hand over Jeremy’s in the space in between. Jeremy slips their hands together and Gavin lets him, feeling all of his weariness and fear slide away.

“We should properly talk things out but… Can we do that later? I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

The golden boy is many things, but he is never vulnerable. He is an actor, so dedicated to his role that he would die for it, and he performs his role perfectly. He builds up layers and layers of protection, a fortress of solitude, with all these mechanics ticking around him. It takes years to do this, years of breakdowns in the middle of the night and claustrophobic panic attacks and catastrophic dysphoria but he manages it. He sits on his throne at the top of the world and no one can take him down until Jeremy, with his youthful optimism and shining eyes, comes along and he falls head over heels, toppling down and down and down.

Gavin realises in that second, with their hands folded together and their eyes focusing on one another, that Jeremy is just as scared as he is. Their relationship is dangerous, there is no doubt about it, but it is a wonderful thing in such a horrible life. It is the yellow buttercups that grow next to the polluted river, it is the cheers and grins stretched across the Fake AH Crew’s faces after a successful heist, it is their hands intertwined and realising how good they have it, even after such a horrible beginning. They will go down in history as the star crossed lovers who brought a whole city to its knees.

“That sounds good, Gavin.” Jeremy steals his breath from his lungs as he is filled with so many emotions, and he expresses them through a soft smirk and a squeeze of their hands. “I will say though that I think Geoff might kick your ass if you break another binder.”

Gavin groans jokingly, allowing his head to rest on Jeremy’s shoulder. “I’m pretty sure he’s going to force me to have top surgery.”

“Why don’t you do it?”

“Effort, innit.”

The atmosphere between both of them is so easy and comfortable and Jeremy doesn’t think he has ever been so happy, locked away in their little corner of familiarity and warmth.

“You deserve better than me, though.” Gavin sees Jeremy’s face fall, putting up a finger as Jeremy is about to retort, and carries on, “I mean it. I’m messy and unpredictable and scared, and I know you are too. I’m selfish, I don’t want to let you go and I was stupid to try and push you away.”

The air is dizzy with the knowledge of how fragile their lives are, how perilous and dangerous and wonderful they are, and Jeremy cannot believe how lucky he has gotten. He presses a kiss to Gavin’s head, lingering for a second before pushing strands of blonde hair out of his eyes. Gavin peeks up, and for a man who can destroy anything in his path, who has carved himself a home from bone and blood, he looks fragile in this moment, delicate even, as if the smallest word could shatter him. Time freezes around them, reality fading away and Jeremy knows he’s doing the right thing.

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy so this... Really got out of hand. I had originally intended to write three chapters around 3/4k, but here we are at four chapters and 5.5k words. These boys are worth it, so I don't mind lmao.  
> Thank you for all the support this fic has gotten! I hope you enjoyed it :))  
> Also, how gay is this chapter jfc I love it.  
> I wanna give a quick shoutout to Amber, because they read over this chapter for me and they have been a neverending stream of support and good things and they make me laugh so much. Thanks for putting up with my sorry ass <3  
> Have a good day!


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